Dear Sherlock
by Plerfstacks
Summary: After Sherlock's apparent death, John uses a series of journal entries to help him through the loss of his friend. These letters cover some of the two years that we don't get to see in the show.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! I feel like I should probably explain-this currently two-chapter story will be a series of letters written by John to Sherlock during the two years that Sherlock was "dead". No Johnlock, although read into it as you will :). That's probably all you need to know, so enjoy! (Sorry for such short little chapters-there will be more soon.)**

 _Journal Entry 1_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _Things have been different around here since you left. Mrs. Hudson comes to check on me much more often than she used to, and she's dropped any pretense of not being my housekeeper. When she's not around, though, the flat is too quiet. Before you left, I could always rest assured that something would soon be crashing or smashing or shattering or breaking during one of your experiments, but now all I hear are the cars outside and the kettle as it whistles each hour when Mrs. Hudson insists on making me tea. I'm glad for her company, really, but it would be nice if she'd leave me alone to my thoughts for a while. I finally understand the way you felt when I would blabber on about my blog whilst you were working on a case. (Sorry about that, by the way.) I've wanted to move your chair for a while now—if I moved it, we'd have space to get a chest of drawers, or a bookshelf maybe, to store all the piles of things you left behind. Bit inconsiderate, really, Sherlock—you could've at least tidied up a bit before you went and abandoned me here alone. Every time I try and move it, though, it won't budge. Either you bolted it to the floor in some frenzied state of paranoia, or it's my conscience telling me not to touch it. I'm getting a definite message that you don't want me to mess with your things, even now. Don't worry—I won't. I don't let guests use it, either. Kind of puts a damper on things when I have a date over and I tell her off for trying to use the completely obvious and vacant chair right across from mine, but I guess that's a burden I'll have to bear. For you. Anyway, how're things with you? I know you won't answer me, but I feel like that's the polite thing to ask at this point. Still setting an example for you, you know, wherever you are. I hope you haven't pissed off any spirits or demons yet (although I can say with almost complete certainty that you have), and I wish you the best of luck in solving all the cases given to you in the new detective agency that you've probably started in your new home._

 _Much love from an empty flat,_

 _John H. Watson_

 **Make sure to leave a nice review, and I promise I'll make more soon :P**


	2. Chapter 2

_Journal Entry 2_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _I thought I should let you know that I've started seeing my therapist again. You probably already knew about her, even though I've never explicitly told you about her, so this shouldn't come as much of a shock to your brilliantly-deducing mind. I haven't told her about this journal yet—I'm sort of afraid she won't let me use it anymore. Is it stupid of me to think that? I'd rather not risk it. She's trying to help me work through my issues, but it's hard to help a guy who can hardly say two words about you without shutting completely down. I guess I'll have to work on that, but for now she's usually letting me just sit and chat about other things—anything that isn't you. Mrs. Hudson also convinced me to get my hands on some antidepressants, even though I don't really take them. Should I? I know I'm the doctor here, and I probably shouldn't be asking a consulting detective and high-functioning sociopath about my prescription drugs, but I want to ask your opinion anyway. I feel like this is something I should work out on my own. Oh, and by the way—I did check earlier to see if your chair was bolted to the floor. I should've known that it wasn't, but with you I'm never sure, so sorry for falsely accusing you in my last letter. Even though I know that, though, I'm still not going to try and move it anymore. My dates can just deal with the couch, I guess. Speaking of your chair, it's still blocking potential storage space for all the files and body parts and however many laptops you left behind, and I've started looking through them. There's nothing important, of course; Mycroft and his gang came to make sure all of those were removed from our flat. The ones they left really are interesting, though. I didn't quite grasp what a genius you are—were—until now. And no, I don't believe that you were a fraud. Someone as impressive and mind-boggling as you couldn't be a fraud. I'll never believe it, no matter what the media tries to tell me._

 _Your loyal friend,_

 _John H. Watson_


	3. Chapter 3

_Journal Entry 3_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _I know I've probably been sending you too many of these letters in such a short period of time—your postbox must be getting full by now—but I have a question for you. How do you feel about funerals? Knowing you, you'd probably say something about how funerals are just a product of the modern world's obsession with sentiment and excessive spending, but I thought I'd ask anyway. I'm asking this because recently I've been thinking about yours. I didn't want to go, you know. Mrs. Hudson had to practically drag me out the door and into the cab. Are you offended that I didn't want to be at your funeral, or do you understand why I wanted to stay at home? I guess you won't be able to give me an answer due to the nature of the question, huh? I suppose I could ask someone who knew you well—Mycroft, maybe—but I wanted your input on this, not his. This is just my guilt talking, Sherlock, pay it no mind, but I keep thinking that if I were your real and true friend, I would've wholeheartedly wanted to attend your funeral and take a while to remember you, one last time. After some thought, I realized that it was because I was there when… you know… happened. I told myself for days that the only reason I had been reluctant to go was because I didn't want to talk to anyone about you, but I've finally come to terms with the real reason. If I hadn't done as you'd told me and stood right there in that spot on the street, I could've made it up the stairs and talked you off of that ledge. You could be here right now, and I wouldn't be crying into some bloody journal about my feelings. If I'd been able to see what was going on in your head, maybe we wouldn't be where we are right now. There's no going back, really, I suppose. Anyway, enough about me. I know I've asked you before, but how are you? I hope you're doing well, wherever you are. Better than me, I suppose. The flat's still too quiet._

 _Best of luck with your new cases,_

 _John H. Watson_

 **Writing this is making me so sad :(**


	4. Chapter 4

_Journal Entry 4_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _It's been a while, hasn't it? Mrs. Hudson convinced me to continue with my blog, and that's taken up a lot of the time since I last wrote you. Nothing much has gone on recently—Mrs. Hudson still tries to get me to leave the house, I still haven't moved your chair, and I've finally finished sifting through all the junk that you left behind. Some of the things in there are too mind-blowing for me to even imagine, so if you ever decide to write me back, I'd love it if you'd try and explain them for me. In other news, we have a new neighbor. Her name's Mary—she's just moved in nearby, and she and I have met up a few times. I don't think that they were dates, per se, but we have a lot in common and I think you'd like her. She's younger than I am, but only by a little, and she's funny and witty and clever. (Not as clever as you, but I don't think anyone on the mortal plane could manage that, if we're being honest.) I've told her about you, and she seems really interested in your work. I showed her a few of the old case files and some of your preserved dead things and various body parts in those jars that neither I nor Mrs. Hudson have had the heart to throw out. She was practically interrogating me about your work—I think she's a real forensics fanatic, just like you. You two really would have gotten along. Pity that all this had to go and happen. I have dinner with Mary again tonight, actually, so I should probably wrap this letter up and go get changed into something else—something that I haven't been wearing for the past three days. And don't think I've forgotten about you. Just because I met someone doesn't mean I won't keep writing. That's a promise. Although it might be a little easier for me to hold onto a relationship without you around to drag me all over the country on one of your cases, don't you think? …Ah, bugger. That was my attempt at humor, you know, and now I'm sniveling into my journal all over again. I should've ended this letter before, when I had the chance._

 _I'm off to go wash my face,_

 _John H. Watson_

 **This isn't taking me as long as I thought it would- they're so short that I might actually be finished by the end of the week. Make sure to leave a review, and I'd love to hear any suggestions for this or something new I should write :)**


	5. Chapter 5

_Journal Entry 5_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _Mrs. Hudson finally found my journal. I'm honestly a bit relieved, because it was getting tedious having to hide it from her for so long. At least three times a day, she comes around to talk to me and bring me tea, and I used to have to make sure to put this notebook somewhere where she couldn't find it. Luckily, she wasn't upset when she realized that I've been in correspondence with you for so long (well, one-way correspondence—not really correspondence at all, if we're being honest). I'd expected her to call my therapist and insist that I never write to you again, but all she did was hug me and ask me to send you her love. Alright, now that that's said, I can't wait any longer. Changing the subject, the real reason I'm writing you this letter is because I have exciting news. Mary and I are finally seeing each other! For real, I mean. There's been something going on for weeks now, but yesterday she directly asked me if I was interested in a relationship, and, well… now I have a girlfriend. I can't express to you how happy I am, Sherlock. This is the first time since you left, I think, that I've been truly and completely overjoyed. I'm still sad about what happened to you, believe me, Sherlock, but I don't think you'd mind that I've found someone else who makes me happy. I promise she's not replacing you. I don't think anybody could even begin to replace you, or at least if there is one, I haven't found them yet. I suppose I could ask Mary to develop a habit of shooting holes in the walls when she's bored and dragging me out of cafés to chase cabs, but until then she'll just be Mary—not you. I wish you'd write me back, by the way. Bit rude of you to just let me keep talking and talking and never reply. I want to know what's going on in your new life, wherever you are, and although I know that it's not entirely possible for you to communicate with me, I'm still interested in what you're up to. I suppose I'll just have to deduce what you're not telling me. And yes, before you say anything, I did learn a few things from you while you were still here. Despite what you may think, I am moderately clever. Oh, and I forgot to mention earlier: Mary wishes you the best of luck on your cases._

 _Your finally-happy friend,_

 _John H. Watson_

 **Thanks so much to fictionfreak199 for your super-sweet review on my last chapter :)**


	6. Chapter 6

_Journal Entry 6_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _I felt like I needed to write to you today because today is the one-year anniversary of… you know… what happened to you a year ago. So much has happened since then—almost too much for me to recap—but I've changed a lot, and I think it might be for the best. I'm happy with Mary, and I've moved in with her. We haven't gotten rid of our old place in Baker Street, and I make sure to stop in occasionally to talk to Mrs. Hudson, so don't worry about that. I know how much that place meant to you. I finally felt like it was okay to move out, because your clients have stopped coming in. Some of them don't know what happened (how, I don't know; it was all over the news), so it was my job for a few months to inform everyone who came in with a case. I can't say I miss that particular job. And some of them—get this—would ask me to solve their case in place of you. I can almost hear you laughing at them. Hell, I was almost expecting you to come storming in one day to tell them off for even entertaining the notion that I could solve a case worthy of Sherlock Holmes. But eventually, they stopped filtering in, and since then I've mostly been busy with Mary. We go out for drinks with Greg (Lestrade, in case you forgot) every few days now—he seems to miss your input. Can't say the same for Donovan, or Anderson—but, then again, I think Anderson's a bit off his rocker lately. He doesn't miss you, per se, but he definitely seems to regret fueling the fire that eventually drove you over the edge… or so to speak. He has this whole conspiracy theory that you're still around, somewhere. Can't say I blame him; I wished the same thing for weeks after you were gone. He's talked to me about it a few times, and every story is more insane than the last. Somehow, though… I wish his crazy theories would turn out to be true. Wishful thinking won't get me anywhere, I guess. Anyway, this is where I sign off—hope you're doing well._

 _Happy(ish) one-year anniversary,_

 _John H. Watson_

 **Make sure to hit the review button and tell me what you think so far :)**


	7. Chapter 7

_Journal Entry 7_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _I need to develop a more consistent schedule of writing you these letters. It's only been about a month since we last spoke, but I've been feeling sort of lonely. I still have Mary, of course, and Mrs. Hudson, and Molly, and Greg, and occasionally Anderson and Donovan, but I wanted to talk to you. I never thought I'd miss all the clients coming in to ask about your cases, but here we are. Having them come in every few days was almost like having you back, for a little while. Now that they've stopped… well, I dunno. I guess I've learned to be careful what I wish for. In other, more lighthearted news, Mary and I are still very happy together and we're thinking that maybe someday we could settle down and start a family somewhere. We've run the idea past Mrs. Hudson, just to see what her opinions were on the matter. When we told her, she immediately burst into tears, and I thought I'd done something wrong until she laughed and hugged both of us until I thought we'd suffocate. I haven't seen her this excited since you left, Sherlock, and it makes me so happy. We've all sort of moved on from what happened to you—I'm happier, Mrs. Hudson is happier, I've stopped seeing my therapist, and everything is generally okay (with the possible exception of what I mentioned earlier). I hope you're alright with that, but I doubt you'd find much value in sitting around and moping over something that can't be changed, so I'm not too worried. Oh, and I was meaning to tell you something else—I finally sat in on one of Anderson's club meetings with him and the rest of the conspiracy nutters. It didn't go very well—I ended up shouting at everyone and storming out—but Anderson called the next day and told me that nobody minded my outburst and they were sorry for maybe talking insensitively about you around me. I still felt bad, though, and with a little encouragement from Mary, I showed up again the other day to apologize. I won't be going to another one of those anytime soon. That's about all the news I have for now; hopefully I won't need to write to you for at least a few more months._

 _Goodbye for now,_

 _John H. Watson_

 **A/N: I'm not quite sure when this will end, but the next chapter will probably be one of the last. Hope you guys are enjoying it so far!**

 **A huge thank you to BMRH for your review! You guys' input really means a lot, and your super-thoughtful review made my day :)**


	8. Chapter 8

_Journal Entry 8_

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _Look at that, I've kept my word from my last letter (and then some). It's been about nine months since our last one-way conversation. I still miss you, Sherlock, I won't lie, but I find it harder and harder every day to think about how much I miss you rather than thinking about all the good in my life that's happened since then. I feel like I've grown a lot since my first letter to you, and I wish you were here to see. I've gotten much more serious with Mary, and I've decided that I'm going to ask her to marry me. That's the biggest reason for my sending you this letter, because I have a proposition for you. Listen, I know that it's been almost two years since you died, but you're still my best friend—you always will be. (No, John, you told yourself you wouldn't cry.) Anyway, I want to ask you an important question. Will you be my best man, if I marry Mary? I know you won't be there for real—I'm going to ask Greg to fill in for you—but I'm going to reserve you a seat next to mine, and I'm going to let you have my cake, because even though neither of us likes it and it won't really be a sacrifice for me or an appreciated gift for you, I nevertheless want to do something nice to show you how much you still matter to me. I haven't asked Mary how she feels about this, but I feel like her answer would be a wholehearted 'yes'. Keep in mind that we're not getting married yet—I haven't even asked her for real—but I thought I'd give you the heads-up. Anyway, give that some thought. I'd be absolutely thrilled if you accepted my offer, but, of course, you don't have to. (I'm not quite sure how you'd express it to me if you weren't interested, but I'm sure you'll find a way.) I should probably wrap up my letter now, Sherlock—unless you want to talk more. I have a date with Mary tonight._

 _Hope to see you at my wedding,_

 _John H. Watson_

 **Look at this guys - two updates in one day! I'm not sure yet if I want this to be the last one or not (I'd be glad to hear your opinions and/or ideas for what the last letter could be about). This chapter in particular hit me right in the feels, so sorry if it did the same to you :P Like always, make sure to leave a nice review!**

 **Also, this is the first chapter where John acknowledges that Sherlock actually died. Our little bean has come so far :')**


End file.
